Right now in Perth we are in the perfect time of the year to enjoy nature. We are moving into nice spring sunshine with temperatures in the mid-twenties. This is a time to enjoy, before the Perth furnace gets cranking for summertime and I can’t step outside without getting burnt. The grass is still green from winter, before it browns off over the summer months.
I visited Queens Gardens in East Perth. Nature was in full bloom. Multiple groups of ducklings were running after their mothers. A group of cygnets were sitting under the shade of a tree. The cygnets were a grey colour, before they grow their unique black feathers; black swans - a feature of Perth’s naturescape.
There is a downside to Perth nature, and that is the flies. A few years I have a recollection of our then State government cutting the amount of funding dedicated to fly management by dung beetles. Over the last few years I am convinced that we have more bush flies than we used to. It’s frustrating, but if I want to take the good of nature I suppose I have to accept the bad.
You do get used to doing the what I know as the Aussie wave.
I’ve bought an annual subscription to Harmonizely as my replacement for WhenWorks, which is shutting down at the end of 2019.
Microblogvember: When I was a kid my friends and I would typically play sport on the street. Cricket and tennis were the two typical games. I don’t see kids doing that anymore.
Over the past year I’ve been enjoying food a bit too much. Concurrently I’ve stopped playing sport. This has led to an imbalance in the food in/energy out equation.
In turn, I’ve seen the growth of a generous belly for the first time in my life. I’m not particularly pleased about this. My kid calling me ‘fat Dad’, is jesting that cuts a little too close to the bone!
I’ve been trying to do a little more exercise but time is a constant challenge. Plus, if the exercise in question doesn’t involve a ball, I have a hard time maintaining interest. While I’ve done gym work plenty in the past, I’ve never loved it and have a hard time sticking with it.
What I can do instantly is reduce the input side of the equation by changing (and reducing) what I eat. So I’ve put myself on a diet. I’ve turned to the service of Lite n' Easy to deliver portion controlled, dietician planned meals. The food is okay, albeit somewhat repetitive.
I miss the more flavoursome fattening food but hopefully the changed diet will pay off over the next few months. I reckon I need to lose about 10kg. That will get me back to what I consider my ‘standard’ weight. I don’t need to lose it all in the next month, but I need to lose it over this next year.
Catalina has filled my drive with hundreds of wifi diagnostic files for no apparent reason. Cool.
Microblogvember: If you want to be arithmetically precise, don’t say average; instead say mean.
It seems that part of the human condition is to view failure as an end in and of itself. I think it’s better to consider it part of the process towards success.
A life well-lived encompasses a procession of trade-offs. We necessarily fail to do all the things we might want. We can’t be good at everything. We don’t have time to do everything. Are we failing because we don’t manage to do it all? Are we failing because we’re not multi-tasking our way to success?
That kind of thinking is probably a path to depression.
Failing is a trade-off. Failing is inevitable. It’s not possible to achieve the highest goals without accepting failure along the way. We shouldn’t beat ourselves up over our failures, because they are necessary to build success.
Time is limited. A failure to do something can represent a successful engagement with something else. I think I’m making the case for a Mr. Holland’s Opus approach to life, failure and success. Our greatest success might be hiding behind what was first thought a massive failure.
Microblogvember: I haven’t been invited to a fancy dress party in years… which is good, because I don’t really like them.
Microblogvember: When does a mark become a blemish? Is it simply in the eyes of the beholder?
I’m not a handyman. Never have been. When I was young, I would be roped into helping my stepdad do work around the house or on the car. I dutifully participated despite the boredom. I couldn’t find joy in repairs and construction.
As an adult my disinterest in physical work consolidated. Handyman tasks were a burden, made harder by the knowledge that my efforts would not match what could be achieved by paying a professional. I would rather throw money at the problem than attempt a DIY.
Now I’m a Dad and my son has to build a wooden Kub Kar as part of his Scouts program. At the briefing session I saw the thrill and excitement of other kids… and other Dads. Meanwhile, I felt dread. Here it was: a construction/woodworking project that I would have to motivate my kid to get involved in. While simultaneously trying to motivate myself.
This has to become a car.
In my boy I can see the same mindset I had as a child. He’s not showing any desire to work with tools to build an impressive car. I imagine those other kids with their Dads, working away in the shed to build something great. Meanwhile, we’re just trying to build something that will roll.
I’m trying to be a good Dad. I’m trying to show interest. I hope my son will try to get engaged in the project.
Without skill, effort is all we have.
In addition to Blogvember we also have Microblogvember. Prompts can be the key to success, so get the daily prompt for this project from @macgenie
In this older article, Dan outlines the benefits of blogging, but also the challenge of getting people to see beyond big social media.
It is psychological gravity, not technical inertia, however, that is the greater force against the open web. Human beings are social animals and centralized social media like Twitter and Facebook provide a powerful sense of ambient humanity—the feeling that “others are here”—that is often missing when one writes on one’s own site.
I must rely on vague and fading recollections to remember anything of my life that happened more than a decade ago. Any key events forward from around 2003, I start to have digital records to draw upon as a memory trigger. For instance, I can say with absolute knowledge that on 17 June 2006, I was playing with our new puppy, Indi. I recall this evening, but only by accessing the metadata of the photos can I know when it actually happened. Earlier this year, Indi died. So much time has passed.
With digital records now pervasive, recollection can be supported by hard data. No more complete reliance on a fuzzy memory.
I remember as a child playing at a friend’s house; I remember it seeming absolutely enormous. We spent the day running through the garden, up and down the stairs inside and around the giant lounge room. I can visualise it clearly. But I can’t say what year it was, where it was, or why I was there. My recollection of the scene is strong, but the situation is unknown. I don’t have the option of reviewing a geotag to be able to revisit the location as an adult. It’s a memory and nothing more.
My kids will experience a different world. All their life events have been captured, whether through photos, video, audio or journal entries written by their Dad. All those pieces of data have metadata. If they have a recollection in the future, it is likely they will be able to enter the date into their device of the time and bring up the evidence of the memory in glorious detail.
I wonder, though, if this will make their recollections richer, or whether the reality of the evidence at hand will diminish the richness of their mind’s eye?
Trick or treat. (But preferably treat, thanks very much.)
The WA Government will ban students from using mobile phones in public schools in a major push to reduce distraction and focus on learning.
Bravo! I reckon this is a great move.
Inktober Day 29: Injured.
I’m on the verge of splurging for a new 27” iMac. I’ve been saving for ages but am still nervous. An expensive purchase. But the 2013 MacBook Pro is showing its age.
