What a contrast from last week, when successes vied with each other for attention in the blog. Someone asked me at lunchtime yesterday what I had achieved in the morning and I was hard-pushed to provide an answer. It had been much like the rest of the week, lazing over breakfast, catching up with social media, reading other people's blogs, and so on. Some days I can sit at the computer for hours between coffee breaks!
The trip last Friday to the Christian Resources Exhibition has left me some interesting recollections. As usual at these places the stallholders can't wait to thrust material into your hands. At one stall, the man held out a small purple plastic bag and asked, "Would you like a bag?"
Bemused, I gave him a polite and honest answer, "No thank you."
"What's the matter?" he retorted, "Don't you like my bag?"
"I didn't say that."
"Oh, it's me you don't like, then."
"Not at all," By this point I was beginning to tire. It seemed an awfully protracted conversation about a plastic bag ... even a purple one! "I just don't need another bag."
It wasn't until then that I noticed that the bag actually contained more leaflets about what he was promoting; I didn't want more leaflets either ... especially as, by then, I had realised that his product was of no interest to me. I mused further as I walked away, thinking that, if he was that aggressive to everyone who passed, he wasn't going to do much business.
As it was I came home with a rucksack full of material. It was quickly sorted into three piles. There were those like 'how to install underfloor heating in your church', which went straight into the recycling basket. There were others like brochures for retreat locations, which were immediately filed for future reference if I decide one day that I want to get away from everything and everybody for a few days. And there were others that I really want to read, but so far have been too busy (doing exactly what? I hear you ask ... without reply). These are still sitting in a neat pile on the table. I dare you to ask me next week if they are still there ... but I'd rather you didn't.
Embarrassed by yesterday's unanswerable question of how did I spend my morning, I decided I really ought to produce some evidence of achievement. For many years I had prided myself on having completed my tax return by the end of April. As things have become a bit more complicated, I've realised the wisdom of waiting until all the finance houses have submitted their certificates and reports up to the archaic and magical 5th April. In recent years, therefore, my target has been the Spring Bank Holiday at the end of May.
Yesterday afternoon saw the exercise completed from scratch to final filing in less than four hours ... despite the occasional diversion caused by the fact that I'm now no longer working. In this new circumstance, with no regular income, I realise there's a greater need to be aware of upcoming commitments, so there are no financial surprises to crawl out of the proverbial woodwork. So the follow up to the tax return (which, by the way, indicates a small refund to come when the Inspector - is there one, in these totally computerised days, I wonder? - gets his act together), is therefore a spreadsheet where I can record everything in 'tax return fashion' as it happens. I'm working on that one.
There is a tinge of dissatisfaction that some things have slipped off the radar, like the latest Welsh exercises, and those families I was enthusiastically chasing through the censuses the other week. However, I think a few days where there are no identifiable achievements are acceptable. They help to keep one in the real world, where success is not a constant. With feet thus securely on the ground, one is better able to cope with the occasional burst of euphoria.
More euphoria next week, as I come to the leaping-off point for the year's second journey in the motorhome.
Saturday, 28 May 2016
Saturday, 21 May 2016
A Successful Week
When I was driving, there were times when I had to consult the diary to see what I'd done; usually that would be at the end of a very full week. I have that same feeling this morning; last weekend seems a long while ago. Not only has it been a full week, but a successful one too, in many ways. It began with my first duty on a new church rota, that for giving lifts to the morning service. I had arrived early, to make sure I didn't miss my designated passenger, but was uncertain exactly where I should find her. I drove around the block at least twice before deciding there might have been some confusion and moving off without her. However, I made one last approach, this time from the opposite direction, and there she was ... in answer to my unuttered prayer! Our short journey afforded a surprisingly rewarding opportunity for us to get to know each other ... the first success of the week!
The second one, equally, had a vehicular connection. I'd spotted some carpet offcuts on Freecycle, and after church went off to collect in a nearby village. The afternoon sunshine allowed me to spread these out on the car park, where I was able to justify my opinion that they would, together, provide the ideal complement to the awning I bought last year for the motorhome. In fact, some trimming was required to reduce the three largest pieces to the required length, and the resulting 'offcuts of offcuts' enabled me to extend the carpeted area of my kitchen to good effect. One piece that I collected remained entirely unused, so was re-offered on Freecycle, and duly collected later in the week.
Monday found me embroiled in my health and safety duties. After the excitement of the last couple of months, canvassing a number of church members who hold positions of responsibility, I needed to analyse and report on the responses I've received. Last weekend had also seen my second regular inspection of the premises, so that was cause for another report - two items comfortingly deleted from my to-do list.
Following the flare-up at the weekend of a minor but irritating condition that has troubled me intermittently for perhaps as much as thirty years, I visited my doctor on Tuesday. I was rewarded by a positive diagnosis, accompanied by arrangements to visit a consultant to determine the appropriate treatment to overcome it ... another success.
By Wednesday, I was on a roll. I tackled another lesson in my 'Teach Yourself' Welsh course. After spending the afternoon getting to grips with the aspirate mutation, and wondering just how many more variations of mutation there might be to blight this language, I went along to choir practice. Often these midweek evenings are reduced in attendance because of other commitments - including work! - but they are arranged to afford additional practice between the monthly Sunday morning gatherings for those who can make them. This week, however, all parts were represented ... and none by just a single voice! It was both productive and encouraging for us all.
Thursday's reward was prompted by the Excel webinar I had watched last week, after which I realised that the techniques described were not the solution to my problem. These thoughts had been maturing subconsciously during the week and I now sought to attack the matter by other means. After a long struggle, some exploration and a degree of persistence, I have achieved moderate success, which will be verified only by regular use in 'normal' conditions over the next few weeks.
Finally, yesterday, the name Excel came again to the fore, but in a different guise. Some while ago, I accepted an on-line offer of a free ticket for the Christian Resources Exhibition, which I've only visited once before, for a mere ten minutes just before closing time after making a nearby delivery some twelve or so years ago. I discovered last week that the value of my free admission was less than one-third of the inescapable car park charge, but decided that it was still a good bargain for, without the offer, I probably wouldn't have even considered attending.
I had learned that a friend from Letchworth would also be at Excel for CRE, helping on one of the stands so, after an initial wander around, I presented myself at his stall, was introduced to his colleague and giving an invitation to an event to take place in one of the conference rooms in the afternoon. This event turned out to be the final of a competition entitled 'The Sermon of the Year 2016'. It was organised in two sections, under- and over-21, so the final actually involved four sermons. All of them were interesting and thought-provoking, but in my opinion there was a clear winner in each section. I was gratified to discover that my thoughts echoed those of the three judges ... another success!
The final success of the week has not yet been fully realised, I'm sure. I took advantage of an offer at the Exhibition to provide myself with a new Bible, incorporating lots of study material, at only two-thirds of the normal price. One interesting and informative feature was discovered in it this morning, and I'm positive that I shall find many more in due course.
Can next week be so rewarding? Wait with me ... and see!
The second one, equally, had a vehicular connection. I'd spotted some carpet offcuts on Freecycle, and after church went off to collect in a nearby village. The afternoon sunshine allowed me to spread these out on the car park, where I was able to justify my opinion that they would, together, provide the ideal complement to the awning I bought last year for the motorhome. In fact, some trimming was required to reduce the three largest pieces to the required length, and the resulting 'offcuts of offcuts' enabled me to extend the carpeted area of my kitchen to good effect. One piece that I collected remained entirely unused, so was re-offered on Freecycle, and duly collected later in the week.
Monday found me embroiled in my health and safety duties. After the excitement of the last couple of months, canvassing a number of church members who hold positions of responsibility, I needed to analyse and report on the responses I've received. Last weekend had also seen my second regular inspection of the premises, so that was cause for another report - two items comfortingly deleted from my to-do list.
Following the flare-up at the weekend of a minor but irritating condition that has troubled me intermittently for perhaps as much as thirty years, I visited my doctor on Tuesday. I was rewarded by a positive diagnosis, accompanied by arrangements to visit a consultant to determine the appropriate treatment to overcome it ... another success.
By Wednesday, I was on a roll. I tackled another lesson in my 'Teach Yourself' Welsh course. After spending the afternoon getting to grips with the aspirate mutation, and wondering just how many more variations of mutation there might be to blight this language, I went along to choir practice. Often these midweek evenings are reduced in attendance because of other commitments - including work! - but they are arranged to afford additional practice between the monthly Sunday morning gatherings for those who can make them. This week, however, all parts were represented ... and none by just a single voice! It was both productive and encouraging for us all.
Thursday's reward was prompted by the Excel webinar I had watched last week, after which I realised that the techniques described were not the solution to my problem. These thoughts had been maturing subconsciously during the week and I now sought to attack the matter by other means. After a long struggle, some exploration and a degree of persistence, I have achieved moderate success, which will be verified only by regular use in 'normal' conditions over the next few weeks.
Finally, yesterday, the name Excel came again to the fore, but in a different guise. Some while ago, I accepted an on-line offer of a free ticket for the Christian Resources Exhibition, which I've only visited once before, for a mere ten minutes just before closing time after making a nearby delivery some twelve or so years ago. I discovered last week that the value of my free admission was less than one-third of the inescapable car park charge, but decided that it was still a good bargain for, without the offer, I probably wouldn't have even considered attending.
I had learned that a friend from Letchworth would also be at Excel for CRE, helping on one of the stands so, after an initial wander around, I presented myself at his stall, was introduced to his colleague and giving an invitation to an event to take place in one of the conference rooms in the afternoon. This event turned out to be the final of a competition entitled 'The Sermon of the Year 2016'. It was organised in two sections, under- and over-21, so the final actually involved four sermons. All of them were interesting and thought-provoking, but in my opinion there was a clear winner in each section. I was gratified to discover that my thoughts echoed those of the three judges ... another success!
The final success of the week has not yet been fully realised, I'm sure. I took advantage of an offer at the Exhibition to provide myself with a new Bible, incorporating lots of study material, at only two-thirds of the normal price. One interesting and informative feature was discovered in it this morning, and I'm positive that I shall find many more in due course.
Can next week be so rewarding? Wait with me ... and see!
Saturday, 14 May 2016
The Wrong Question
Yesterday was a magically palindromic 20,202 days since the inauguration of Jack Kennedy as the 35th president of the USA. (For the many who won't bother to work it out, I'll tell you that was on 20th January 1961.) His inaugural speech, one of the shortest in history, contained words that made the occasion famous, "ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country." It's these words that give me my thread for this week's post. He was correcting them lest they should be asking the wrong question.
It's a thought that has occured to me a number of times this week. The first was when I had an online disagreement with a friend about the coming EU referendum. Upon discovering that we were on opposite sides of the debate we exchanged a couple of salvos as I tried - unsuccessfully - to persuade him that Kennedy's philosophy (although I didn't call it that) applied to this matter all these years later: it's just as important to realise what we can do for Europe as to consider what Europe can do for us.
Enough politics. The next occasion arose when I subjected myself to a (free ... which is why I did it!) online tutorial about the use of Microsoft Excel. Having used spreadsheets both for employers and for myself over many years, I reckon I have a pretty good knowledge of this program. However, I have many 'known unknowns' (to quote another famous American), and I reckon there are far more 'unknown unknowns' out there, that I know nothing about, and will never need to.
This particular webinar related to the production of a 'dashboard', a one-screen display of the key facts of a situation. At the end of it, I was convinced that I had a pretty good use for some of these techniques, using a facet of Excel that I've only dabbled with thus far, the pivot table. Having struggled with it for some hours this morning, it is now my belief that I was asking the wrong question ... or at least I have now discovered a solution to a problem that I don't yet face. Meanwhile, my present problem doesn't require this particular technique to solve it.
This afternoon found me at one of the year's three meetings of the West London branch of the Suffolk Family History Society. Earlier in the week our secretary had sent round an e-mail advising us that the arranged speaker for today had been admitted to hospital, and was unable to be with us. Instead, she suggested, we might each make a contribution to an article for the Society's website explaining why there should be a branch of a Suffolk society in west London or, put another way, how and why had our ancestors come to be living in London instead of Suffolk.
I had dismissed the matter as not particularly relevant to me, since only a few stray 'twigs' of my distant cousins had settled in London; by far the greater number who had migrated had gone to the industrial areas of Lancashire, and a few to the coal mines of the north-east. It wasn't until the discussion got under way that I realised that I'd missed the point completely. I did have a contribution to make, albeit a very small one.
It transpired that only two of the gathering had themselves been born in the county, but had been brought to the metropolis by their families and had grown up there (however, one lady had been old enough by then to have acquired the local accent, which she has never lost). I was born in Norfolk, but of parents born and bred in Suffolk, so the accent I learned as I grew up was more Suffolk than Norfolk, even if I didn't realise that until much more recently. Out of us all, I was the only one who had actually made the migration myself ... although I hadn't considered my journey to north Hertfordshire to be a migration to London. In the context of this blog, I had pre-answered the wrong question.
Before the discussion about migration, I had been ensconced with my friend Jean over our two computers, engaged in each other's problems. She had been trying to find out why Windows 10 wouldn't allow her to search the society's many parish register transcription CDs. Both I and another member had been able to explain how this could be achieved. The critical question was not 'why not?', but 'how?'.
Conversely, I had mentioned the difficulty posed by a young man named Herbert, who had died in 1885 at the age of about 15. In his short lifetime, he had appeared on two censuses and in each case was living with his grandparents. They had had many children, but I had decided that I shouldn't be able to find out which of these was his father until I'm able to visit the local record office to find his baptism. Jean was able to suggest another route by which I might discover this key link to the rest of my tree.
After all these mis-alignments of problems and solutions, questions and answers, I'm not sure how I shall go about the challenges of the next week ... but I'm sure some of the answers will find their way here.
It's a thought that has occured to me a number of times this week. The first was when I had an online disagreement with a friend about the coming EU referendum. Upon discovering that we were on opposite sides of the debate we exchanged a couple of salvos as I tried - unsuccessfully - to persuade him that Kennedy's philosophy (although I didn't call it that) applied to this matter all these years later: it's just as important to realise what we can do for Europe as to consider what Europe can do for us.
Enough politics. The next occasion arose when I subjected myself to a (free ... which is why I did it!) online tutorial about the use of Microsoft Excel. Having used spreadsheets both for employers and for myself over many years, I reckon I have a pretty good knowledge of this program. However, I have many 'known unknowns' (to quote another famous American), and I reckon there are far more 'unknown unknowns' out there, that I know nothing about, and will never need to.
This particular webinar related to the production of a 'dashboard', a one-screen display of the key facts of a situation. At the end of it, I was convinced that I had a pretty good use for some of these techniques, using a facet of Excel that I've only dabbled with thus far, the pivot table. Having struggled with it for some hours this morning, it is now my belief that I was asking the wrong question ... or at least I have now discovered a solution to a problem that I don't yet face. Meanwhile, my present problem doesn't require this particular technique to solve it.
This afternoon found me at one of the year's three meetings of the West London branch of the Suffolk Family History Society. Earlier in the week our secretary had sent round an e-mail advising us that the arranged speaker for today had been admitted to hospital, and was unable to be with us. Instead, she suggested, we might each make a contribution to an article for the Society's website explaining why there should be a branch of a Suffolk society in west London or, put another way, how and why had our ancestors come to be living in London instead of Suffolk.
I had dismissed the matter as not particularly relevant to me, since only a few stray 'twigs' of my distant cousins had settled in London; by far the greater number who had migrated had gone to the industrial areas of Lancashire, and a few to the coal mines of the north-east. It wasn't until the discussion got under way that I realised that I'd missed the point completely. I did have a contribution to make, albeit a very small one.
It transpired that only two of the gathering had themselves been born in the county, but had been brought to the metropolis by their families and had grown up there (however, one lady had been old enough by then to have acquired the local accent, which she has never lost). I was born in Norfolk, but of parents born and bred in Suffolk, so the accent I learned as I grew up was more Suffolk than Norfolk, even if I didn't realise that until much more recently. Out of us all, I was the only one who had actually made the migration myself ... although I hadn't considered my journey to north Hertfordshire to be a migration to London. In the context of this blog, I had pre-answered the wrong question.
Before the discussion about migration, I had been ensconced with my friend Jean over our two computers, engaged in each other's problems. She had been trying to find out why Windows 10 wouldn't allow her to search the society's many parish register transcription CDs. Both I and another member had been able to explain how this could be achieved. The critical question was not 'why not?', but 'how?'.
Conversely, I had mentioned the difficulty posed by a young man named Herbert, who had died in 1885 at the age of about 15. In his short lifetime, he had appeared on two censuses and in each case was living with his grandparents. They had had many children, but I had decided that I shouldn't be able to find out which of these was his father until I'm able to visit the local record office to find his baptism. Jean was able to suggest another route by which I might discover this key link to the rest of my tree.
After all these mis-alignments of problems and solutions, questions and answers, I'm not sure how I shall go about the challenges of the next week ... but I'm sure some of the answers will find their way here.
Saturday, 7 May 2016
Testing Times!
My thoughts this week have centred on one thing only ... The Interview. A few weeks ago, I succumbed to a whim to submit an application to join the editorial team of a magazine. Amazingly, they sent me some back copies and a couple of challenges to see how I would react to submitted material, and this week I got to meet some of them at an interview, which was held in central London. Since it wasn't far from the library of the Society of Genealogists, and the train times gave me some slack, I decided to combine the two destinations, and spent some time before the event at SoG, again pursuing some indirect Lancashire ancestors (with little success, I might add).
With some time to while away afterwards, I decided to walk the almost two miles to King's Cross station, and as I did so, I reflected on past interviews, how long ago they were, and how successful. My last successful interview was almost twenty years ago and, as I recalled the circumstances that had surrounded it, I began for the first time to wonder whether it was actually a successful interview, or if I'd been 'any port in a storm'!
At the time, I was coming to the end of a temporary job following a few weeks of unemployment. I had made a number of unsuccessful applications for a permanent job, and was also listed with my Institute as looking for work. It was through this latter route that, while sitting at my desk one July afternoon, I received a call from an accountant in Cambridge. One of his clients was enjoying an upturn in business and was looking to appoint a management acccountant; he'd got my name from the Institute and was I interested? After a few more questions, an interview was arranged for a couple of weeks hence.
The interview was successful and, after a brief holiday, I joined him at the beginning of September, by which time - so great had been his increase in trade - he'd found a larger office, and also engaged another accountant who started alongside me. In the course of his business as a tax avoidance specialist, he created numerous limited companies each of which had many formal requirements to be fulfilled meticulously and monitored. For this he needed accounting skills, and I now wonder whether our qualification and availability were the principal, if not the only, criteria that led to our engagement.
As a relaxation after all this excitement, I decided yesterday to take advantage of the fine weather to explore my local bus network and, using a succession of services, visited St Albans, the see of our diocese, where I spent three hours or so wandering around the city centre in general and the cathedral in particular. By then I was yearning for a seat, and glad of two hours' bus ride to recover. 'What is it I see in these places?' I wondered, as we drove along. After all, one cathedral or stately home is much the same as the next, generally speaking. It's only to the enthusiast - which I'm not - that the intricate differences matter. A few pictures and a souvenir or two and I'm ready to move on.
On my desk at the moment, metaphorically, are the plans for the next three motorhome trips, which will absorb my time and finances for much of the summer. This realisation, coupled with the inherent difficulty mentioned recently in parking the vehicle in an urban setting, will temper the adventures I'm planning now for the coming months.
By the way, this latest interview was successful only in that I was not engaged for tasks that might prove to be beyond my skills, abilities and experience; there'll be no reduction in my free time for the moment.
With some time to while away afterwards, I decided to walk the almost two miles to King's Cross station, and as I did so, I reflected on past interviews, how long ago they were, and how successful. My last successful interview was almost twenty years ago and, as I recalled the circumstances that had surrounded it, I began for the first time to wonder whether it was actually a successful interview, or if I'd been 'any port in a storm'!
At the time, I was coming to the end of a temporary job following a few weeks of unemployment. I had made a number of unsuccessful applications for a permanent job, and was also listed with my Institute as looking for work. It was through this latter route that, while sitting at my desk one July afternoon, I received a call from an accountant in Cambridge. One of his clients was enjoying an upturn in business and was looking to appoint a management acccountant; he'd got my name from the Institute and was I interested? After a few more questions, an interview was arranged for a couple of weeks hence.
The interview was successful and, after a brief holiday, I joined him at the beginning of September, by which time - so great had been his increase in trade - he'd found a larger office, and also engaged another accountant who started alongside me. In the course of his business as a tax avoidance specialist, he created numerous limited companies each of which had many formal requirements to be fulfilled meticulously and monitored. For this he needed accounting skills, and I now wonder whether our qualification and availability were the principal, if not the only, criteria that led to our engagement.
 |
| The Cathedral and Abbey Church of St Alban |
As a relaxation after all this excitement, I decided yesterday to take advantage of the fine weather to explore my local bus network and, using a succession of services, visited St Albans, the see of our diocese, where I spent three hours or so wandering around the city centre in general and the cathedral in particular. By then I was yearning for a seat, and glad of two hours' bus ride to recover. 'What is it I see in these places?' I wondered, as we drove along. After all, one cathedral or stately home is much the same as the next, generally speaking. It's only to the enthusiast - which I'm not - that the intricate differences matter. A few pictures and a souvenir or two and I'm ready to move on.
On my desk at the moment, metaphorically, are the plans for the next three motorhome trips, which will absorb my time and finances for much of the summer. This realisation, coupled with the inherent difficulty mentioned recently in parking the vehicle in an urban setting, will temper the adventures I'm planning now for the coming months.
By the way, this latest interview was successful only in that I was not engaged for tasks that might prove to be beyond my skills, abilities and experience; there'll be no reduction in my free time for the moment.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)