My efforts at repairing it having proved in vain, the TV is now defunct. I suppose it could be repaired, but given that it was already past retirement age when I inherited it from my flat's previous owners five and a half years ago, I don't think it'd be worth it.
I have looked at replacements. Any excuse for a trip to John Lewis, after all. (John Lewis is the British equivalent of Tiffany's, in that nothing bad ever happens there. It's inconceivable.) I think I've even identified the set of choice. But then I cowered at the price tag, and thought of online ordering, which has provided a marvellous procrastination tool, since it'd take a couple of days to get here.
So we've had no telly for a week and a half. And I do believe I've stumbled on a potential new diet. With no TV, there's no slumping onto the sofa straight after dinner (or, indeed, to consume dinner). Instead I'm still active, getting stuff done. OK, it's not pounding the pavements, but it keeps the blood flowing. And I'm also barely drinking. Not only must this save a fair few calories, but they're saved at a time you shouldn't be intaking anyway because it's getting near bedtime. I'm losing count of the wins here, and I haven't even considered the possibility of Salsa classes, aerobics and the like.
So hurrah for the broken TV.
Thursday, 27 March 2008
Saturday, 22 March 2008
Dadding and tools
Yesterday evening I set to trying to fix our TV, which seems to be dying. When I started out, intrepidly reaching for the tool box, I reckoned I was manfully defying our culture of built-in obsolescence and disposability. I was setting out to fix something that was trying to die on me and trap me into replacing it with something new, shiny, more up-to-date. Something flat. Something digital. (Actually, something capable of displaying the whole picture, now that everything seems to be being broadcast in widescreen. But I digress.)
As I dismantled the ailing beast though, I had to admit to myself that I had no idea what to do once I'd got the back off. I didn't know what I was looking for in the way of symptoms, and had no resources to call on if I did find something wrong. The closest I have to spare parts would be cartridge fuses, and even then only the ones that go into mains plugs.
In short, I wasn't doing this because I know how to fix TV sets, I was doing it because I know how to use a screwdriver.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is what it is to be a father.
As I dismantled the ailing beast though, I had to admit to myself that I had no idea what to do once I'd got the back off. I didn't know what I was looking for in the way of symptoms, and had no resources to call on if I did find something wrong. The closest I have to spare parts would be cartridge fuses, and even then only the ones that go into mains plugs.
In short, I wasn't doing this because I know how to fix TV sets, I was doing it because I know how to use a screwdriver.
Ladies and gentlemen, this is what it is to be a father.
Friday, 21 March 2008
Hello Facebook!
So I've finally put myself on Facebook, and immediately found myself back in contact with an old school friend. It's great to be in touch after 26 years! Certainly puts those years into a new perspective. No kidding.
She made an interesting comment, about being surprised to see me there. Interesting, because I kind of felt the same way. What was someone from my old school doing on Facebook? And then - why the hell WOULDN'T someone from my old school be there? It's not something you could describe as eclectic or obscure.
I realised that I have this notion in my head that all my contemporaries at school as belonging to the pre-computer/internet era. If I met any of them I'd probably be assuming unconsciously that they weren't particularly computer literate. This of course is no big deal. However, it does make me wonder what else I've been assuming about my erstwhile school mates. And all sorts of other people, come to that.
I'm looking forward to getting some more interesting revelations from being part of Facebook.
She made an interesting comment, about being surprised to see me there. Interesting, because I kind of felt the same way. What was someone from my old school doing on Facebook? And then - why the hell WOULDN'T someone from my old school be there? It's not something you could describe as eclectic or obscure.
I realised that I have this notion in my head that all my contemporaries at school as belonging to the pre-computer/internet era. If I met any of them I'd probably be assuming unconsciously that they weren't particularly computer literate. This of course is no big deal. However, it does make me wonder what else I've been assuming about my erstwhile school mates. And all sorts of other people, come to that.
I'm looking forward to getting some more interesting revelations from being part of Facebook.
Tuesday, 18 March 2008
Well, well, well...
Now I've got back to my pre-Christmas weight, I've been noticing some differences.
I've shed about 8 pounds, and am not yet pulling in my belt noticeably further than before. This isn't really a surprise; I'm expecting there to be quite a few more hours on the bike and less hours at the cheese board before that happens. But I have, as I say, noticed a couple of things, to my pleasant surprise.
One thing came to light the other day, as I was going up the stairs to our flat. We live three flights up, and hence often get observations from visitors along the lines of "I bet that keeps you fit!" To be honest, the stairs haven't been cutting the mustard in that department; though I must ascend 60 feet's worth every time I go home, unfitness has been steadily encroaching for some time. It's been over two years since I bounded up the stairs two at a time. Until last Saturday, that is! I suddenly noticed I was doing it just as I used to. The jeans may still be tight, but there's one triumph to mark up. Yay!
The other thing is even more unexpected. It's only in the past couple of years, in which I quit smoking and took up being happy and comfortable, that I've become sufficiently corpulent to generate belly button fluff. It never used to happen. And now, as if by magic, it's stopped happening.
It all goes to show you never know what the benefits are going to be.
I've shed about 8 pounds, and am not yet pulling in my belt noticeably further than before. This isn't really a surprise; I'm expecting there to be quite a few more hours on the bike and less hours at the cheese board before that happens. But I have, as I say, noticed a couple of things, to my pleasant surprise.
One thing came to light the other day, as I was going up the stairs to our flat. We live three flights up, and hence often get observations from visitors along the lines of "I bet that keeps you fit!" To be honest, the stairs haven't been cutting the mustard in that department; though I must ascend 60 feet's worth every time I go home, unfitness has been steadily encroaching for some time. It's been over two years since I bounded up the stairs two at a time. Until last Saturday, that is! I suddenly noticed I was doing it just as I used to. The jeans may still be tight, but there's one triumph to mark up. Yay!
The other thing is even more unexpected. It's only in the past couple of years, in which I quit smoking and took up being happy and comfortable, that I've become sufficiently corpulent to generate belly button fluff. It never used to happen. And now, as if by magic, it's stopped happening.
It all goes to show you never know what the benefits are going to be.
Friday, 14 March 2008
Learn, learn, learn
A client of mine recently said to me "Every day's a school day." I loved that - we learn till we die, and we're constantly surrounded by opportunities for learning. But of all things - learning in a 16-page business questionnaire? Yes folks, that's what I found today.
I hadn't realised it was such a biggie when I started filling it in, then as it dawned on me I started to get a little peeved. But then it was suddenly too late - I'd noticed that things were jumping out at me. The questions were highlighting things for me. It asked if I'd used resources a, b, c, d, e, f and g. I'd used a bit of d and maybe c a couple of times. I realised there are a lot of things out there I could be using which I'm not. One of the traps of being a solo business is thinking you have to do it all yourself. Actually, in lots of ways, there's loads of support out there.
That's the specific point. But zooming out, the real lesson is, you can learn something useful anytime, anywhere.
I hadn't realised it was such a biggie when I started filling it in, then as it dawned on me I started to get a little peeved. But then it was suddenly too late - I'd noticed that things were jumping out at me. The questions were highlighting things for me. It asked if I'd used resources a, b, c, d, e, f and g. I'd used a bit of d and maybe c a couple of times. I realised there are a lot of things out there I could be using which I'm not. One of the traps of being a solo business is thinking you have to do it all yourself. Actually, in lots of ways, there's loads of support out there.
That's the specific point. But zooming out, the real lesson is, you can learn something useful anytime, anywhere.
Tuesday, 11 March 2008
Fred goes west
A very special milestone in my son's development has been reached. At the age of eleven and a half, he has become a fan of spaghetti westerns. Last weekend we watched For a Few Dollars More (possibly my favourite of the original trilogy). As a colossal fan myself, needless to say I'm thrilled to be sharing this with him.
What's so cool about it, I ask myself? I think it's that I feel I've got stuff to contribute to him, in a way that I didn't before. Stuff that he'll enjoy after he has put away his childish things and grown up. In other words, I'm passing on things to the burgeoning man within him that's starting to emerge. It feels like I'm being more than a parent - I'm being a dad.
Feels gooood.
What's so cool about it, I ask myself? I think it's that I feel I've got stuff to contribute to him, in a way that I didn't before. Stuff that he'll enjoy after he has put away his childish things and grown up. In other words, I'm passing on things to the burgeoning man within him that's starting to emerge. It feels like I'm being more than a parent - I'm being a dad.
Feels gooood.
Saturday, 8 March 2008
Human Flying Squirrels!
I suppose it had to happen. Those crrrrazeee French base-jumping types have added a twist - a suit which allows the wearer to "fly" in the manner of, well, a flying squirrel before deploying their parachute. Have a look here for video proof!
Thursday, 6 March 2008
I'm 43!
It's my birthday!
What I notice as I veer into the next year of my life is that lately, noticing things is something I'm doing better. Particularly, I've been actively noticing things. I'm doing it with my efforts at weight loss - repeatedly getting on the new scales. Exercise, too - I've been using my new heart rate monitor, following a disciplined regime on the way to some semblance of fitness. You could call it choosing to look at things. Not just any old things, but things that amount to being steps towards something I want to reach.
The great thing is that it's quite the opposite experience from the childhood "Are we there yet?" sensation I expected. I thought I'd find it frustrating doing things bit by bit. Not at all. I'm loving watching these things steadily change, like the countryside with the seasons. Every tenth of a pound has been lovingly chiselled off, every slight improvement to how I handle my business admin gets appreciated.
The truth is, I'm on my way, and I'm enjoying the journey.
What I notice as I veer into the next year of my life is that lately, noticing things is something I'm doing better. Particularly, I've been actively noticing things. I'm doing it with my efforts at weight loss - repeatedly getting on the new scales. Exercise, too - I've been using my new heart rate monitor, following a disciplined regime on the way to some semblance of fitness. You could call it choosing to look at things. Not just any old things, but things that amount to being steps towards something I want to reach.
The great thing is that it's quite the opposite experience from the childhood "Are we there yet?" sensation I expected. I thought I'd find it frustrating doing things bit by bit. Not at all. I'm loving watching these things steadily change, like the countryside with the seasons. Every tenth of a pound has been lovingly chiselled off, every slight improvement to how I handle my business admin gets appreciated.
The truth is, I'm on my way, and I'm enjoying the journey.
Monday, 3 March 2008
Slimmer time
Last week I started a New Healthy Regime, after the doctor scared me by letting me know that at 14 stone 10 lbs, I'm nearly obese. A couple of days after that Fred was holding a ladder for me and observed that that made me technically too heavy for the ladder; that did it. The bike turbo trainer, which I've used twice previously in all the 14 years I've owned it, was pressed into service, along with the much more recently purchased yet similarly neglected heart rate monitor.
So this week I've cycled at a sustained cardio-vascular training type rate for a decent length of time nearly every day. I've made little change to my diet other than cutting out biscuits, which I was barely even aware of doing. And I've worked out how to make spreadsheet data display itself as a graph, just for the hell of it, so I could track the downward progress of my weight. As a result, I've lost 5 pounds in the first week. Yay! I'm now officially back at my post-Christmas weight.
Yes, I put on one pound over Christmas, and five over the period whose main culinary event is Burns Night.
So this week I've cycled at a sustained cardio-vascular training type rate for a decent length of time nearly every day. I've made little change to my diet other than cutting out biscuits, which I was barely even aware of doing. And I've worked out how to make spreadsheet data display itself as a graph, just for the hell of it, so I could track the downward progress of my weight. As a result, I've lost 5 pounds in the first week. Yay! I'm now officially back at my post-Christmas weight.
Yes, I put on one pound over Christmas, and five over the period whose main culinary event is Burns Night.
Sunday, 2 March 2008
Spreading the love
Yesterday I went for a bike ride up Corstorphine Hill, a good spot nearby for a bit of a play around in the woods (on bikes, at least). I've been going there for years; there's always a lot of fun to be had, and you get a wonderful sense of the seasons changing there.
As usual, I grunted up the climb to the wood and took a rest at this bench at the top:
which has this fantastic view towards Edinburgh:
Stopping at this bench is a special part of the ride for me, because it's one of those ones that's been placed by someone as a memorial - in this case, by two sons for their father:
'In memory of Richard Vanhagen
1902-1987
"He Loved Life"
Erected by his loving sons'
Thing is, I was one sitting on the bench doing my stretches and this old chap came by. We got chatting; he was visiting from South Africa. He turned out to be one of the sons who'd dedicated the bench. He plainly loved life as much as his father had, and was very pleased to see me enjoying it on their bench. It didn't bother him that at that time cycling was forbidden there. It was quite moving to think of how one man's love of life can so simply spread out and pass itself on through a bench to complete strangers.
So I always stop and think of the Vanhagens when I'm there, and how easy it can be to make a difference.
As usual, I grunted up the climb to the wood and took a rest at this bench at the top:
which has this fantastic view towards Edinburgh:
Stopping at this bench is a special part of the ride for me, because it's one of those ones that's been placed by someone as a memorial - in this case, by two sons for their father:
'In memory of Richard Vanhagen
1902-1987
"He Loved Life"
Erected by his loving sons'
Thing is, I was one sitting on the bench doing my stretches and this old chap came by. We got chatting; he was visiting from South Africa. He turned out to be one of the sons who'd dedicated the bench. He plainly loved life as much as his father had, and was very pleased to see me enjoying it on their bench. It didn't bother him that at that time cycling was forbidden there. It was quite moving to think of how one man's love of life can so simply spread out and pass itself on through a bench to complete strangers.
So I always stop and think of the Vanhagens when I'm there, and how easy it can be to make a difference.
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