Good afternoon Negative Soundbyters! This edition is something of a personal milestone for me as it was this time last year that I undertook to publish a blog post every week. (I started numbering the editions only later.) Honestly I didn’t think that I would have the discipline – or even the material – to sustain a weekly post that a reader might find light-hearted and entertaining but yet I managed it, and here we are about 55,000 words later with hopefully a bit more in the tank. Rafe’s arrival has added a certain zest; babies make for wonderful subjects and finding humour in our interactions and then being able to write about it is a joy. How Mrs H keeps us both in check borders on a miracle; she does have the patience of a very long suffering saint (!) as you would know if you were a regular reader of NSB!
Is it important to me the NSB has a readership? When I first started it didn’t really occur to me. I was so wrapped up in my career which centred around finance (and thus numbers and hours spent poring over spreadsheets and transaction structures) that I needed some sort of creative outlet to express myself in a way that was far removed from what I did from nine-to-five. I started experimenting with blogging and it was only when I started doing a course run by Escape The City, that I made a pact with myself that I would try and write up a piece every week. I created a Facebook page dedicated to Negative Soundbyte and it has a small following which is great. And that is important to me; because the writing is now not just for me but also for those who click on the link and give me five minutes of their day. In this day-and-age where there is so much white noise competing for our attention, I cannot take that click for granted!
So thanks very much for reading. I do hope that I have managed to make you smile – or even laugh; because let’s face it there is so much uncertainty and negativity in the world these days that having something humorous to distract us even for a moment is a good thing.
Big love to you all.
Hoddy X
PS: Anything of geopolitical significance to report?
Ah yes…
Apparently it is now “storm” season in the UK. First up was storm “Aileen” that “battered” the UK a few days ago. Not to be outdone by their counterparts in the Caribbean where absolute carnage was wreaked by the sort of weather systems that would make “Aileen” look like a light breeze, reporters were dispatched to all parts of the UK to report on “Aileen”. One early morning breakfast show patched through to one of their team reporting “LIVE” from the eye of the storm, and there this woman stood in an anorak with light drizzle falling in the background and the odd little zephyr - the sort you might launch a kite in - disturbing her hair. I was like “you have got to be kidding me”! But then this is the country where the entire rail network draws to a complete standstill when leaves fall on the tracks so I shouldn’t be that surprised!
Moving on swiftly…..!
Baby Monitors.
We have a Motorola. I am sure that Elon Musk has invented one that is solar powered and can be used on Mars, but ours is a simple model. You charge it, point the camera at the baba and then take the monitor across to the neighbours for dinner. I’m only kidding of course, but technically it is possible…okay Hoddy let’s leave that idea in the folder of “bad-ideas-that-could-get-you-arrested-for-child-neglect”.
We thought we would give the Motorola a test run the other evening. Mrs H had fired up the sort of meal that you needed a knife and fork for so we decided to put Rafe down in his cot upstairs (a romantic meal for two; not two-and-a-6-week old!) and then monitor him from the dining room table courtesy of a video screen about the size of a notebook.
Table dressed; monogrammed cotton napkins, candles burning, shining silver cutlery laid out, proper crystal glasses for the champers – and the baby monitor propped up against the candlestick. We were set. The modern parents; baba fitting into our way of living! You betcha!
I flicked on the monitor and a sort of eerie glow filled the screen; I couldn’t really tell where Rafe was in all honesty, but Mrs H pointed out a ghostly lump saying “There’s his head.” She could have said “those are his feet” and I would have believed her, but as long as the boss was happy, I was happy.
Our meal progressed slowly; we had never watched our baby over a live video feed before and both of us sat glued to the screen looking for any hint of movement that would signal the need to rush upstairs to see if he was okay. I half expected his little face to appear on camera and assure us that he was fine and to enjoy our dinner!
In the end our viewing session was uneventful. The only actor fulfilled his role with grace and aplomb while the audience sat on the edge of their fine-dining seats watching a slightly grainy, black-and-white, silent movie in between mouthfuls of Mrs H’s finest cuisine.
I suppose we should be thankful. There is likely to come a time when a little hand will suddenly come into view. He will give us a close-up of his eyeball and then the screen will go blank and all we will be able to hear from upstairs is a Rafe cackling away as he proceeds to dismantle it and then toss it out of his cot!
OUT!
Pic of the Week
Whose that under the hood? XX
