write.as/jonbeckett

Sometimes it feels like I'm this crazy person, sitting under a tree on a hill-top a little way out of town, typing away furiously on an imaginary typewriter, folding each page up into the shape of a paper airplane, and launching it into the wind to fall somewhere on the town below – where somebody might find it, unfold it, and read it.

You never quite know who's going to find the planes you throw – who's going to read the words they contain. You expect the majority to not even notice the crumpled up words stuck in a nearby hedge, or run over by a truck earlier that morning. Sometimes though – sometimes people find the plane, pick it up, unfold it, read it, and look around to see where it came from. Sometimes they spot you up at the top of the hill, and seek you out – making their way slowly up the hill towards you, unfolded paper still in hand – to find out more about you.

Those people are the best people.

I hadn't planned on writing a second post today, but after spectacularly losing several games of chess in a row online against lower rated opponents, I thought it best to walk away and try to remember not to play late at night when my brain is running on fumes.

What might best occupy my mind before falling into bed? Ah yes – empty my head into the keyboard. Pollute the internet with the random, and inconsequential thoughts tumbling around my head.

Actually, there is a thought. Or maybe it's a reaction. Horror. A sick feeling. One of my co-workers proudly held out one of the new iPhones in the office today for everybody to admire. While it looked very lovely – in that way that chamfered rectangles of glass tend to – I wondered how much it might be costing him, so gently enquired. The number he told me kind of made me feel a mixture of horror and revulsion.

When I told him how much I was paying for my phone contract, he too looked a little ill – perhaps realising the enormity of what he had done. Let's just say that we are paying about the same amount for 5 iPhones for our family per month, that he is paying for his phone. It looks the same, and it works the same – it's just bigger.

I'm not going to go into an apples and pears rant about features and capabilities of the various popular mobile phones and operating systems, because there are innumerable nerds out there filling column inches with hyperbolae and foaming invective. A phone is a phone to me – I've kind of gone past the whole 'defence of self' fanboyism about anything any more. Sure, I've got some opinions, but it really isn't going to help anybody if I explain just why Android is better than iOS, or why Windows Phone was better than either of them.

All I do know is that I would never pay as much as he is paying per month for his phone. It's utter, utter madness.

It's mid-morning on Monday and I'm taking a break from the mayhem for a few minutes. The day began in somewhat chaotic fashion, due to my other half picking up a bug over the weekend and calling in to work sick. We somehow managed to explode the children out of bed, and send them on their way to school – more by luck than judgement I think.

While waving goodbye to our youngest on the doorstep, I decided that perhaps a huge hoodie might be the order of the day – Autumn had snuck up from somewhere and was busy turning the temperature knob down for the world and it's dog. Given that I cycle to work, and feared my fingers might snap off in the cold air, I started searching for a pair of gloves. I found several pairs of football socks, innumerable scarfs, an assortment of woolly hats, but sadly no gloves. Inspiration finally struck while looking in the same places a second time, and I found a pair in the garden among the gardening tools – because of course that's where you would find a pair of cycling gloves.

So yes – Autumn is here. That's not the big news today though. The big news today is that I managed to make a roast dinner last night (with minimal assistance from my other half), and didn't poison anybody. The kids even ate it. The minimal assistance happened when I inquired how long I should boil the potatoes for, and a jab with a fork by my other half began a few moments of panic as she proclaimed I might have turned them to mush. In the chaos of finding a cullender that ensued, I hit my head on a cupboard door that Miss 14 had left open above me, and nearly brought half the kitchen down on my head. I'm still not sure how I didn't brain myself.

Anyway. I suppose I should be getting on with some work. A little look at Twitter won't hurt though, will it? And then Instagram, and Facebook, and Reddit, and Flickr, and... urgh.

While out for dinner with the newly crowned Miss 18 and the rest of the family and in-laws last night, I suggested that I might take her to London today – to acquire the pair of Doc Marten boots she's had her eye on forever. It just so happens one of their factory stores is on Neal street – between Covent Garden, and Shaftesbury Avenue – a road we have walked many times because it leads to the comic book store.

We have made something of a tradition – the pair of us – from our visits to the comic book store in London. We get on the morning train, arrive at Paddington an hour later, grab a coffee from one of the many sellers in the station, and then head below ground – hurtling through the Underground to Covent Garden. We emerge into the late morning and wander along Neal Street – stopping at Itsu for a very Japanese late breakfast, and then on to 'Forbidden Planet' on Shaftesbury Avenue.

While Miss 18 vanishes into the shelves of Manga books, I typically find myself looking at the independents – the likes of Bryan Lee O'Malley (of Scott Pilgrim fame), and Noelle Stevenson (if you've not seen Lumberjanes, you have missed out). I've had my eye on a number of books by Kazu Kibuishi for years, after discovering his web comic 'Copper' years ago. The artwork in the 'Amulet' books is stunning.

So yes – the plan was to go to London today. I rolled out of bed – on a Sunday – at 7am, jumped in the shower, brushed my teeth, got dressed, and then woke her up. I then put some clothes in the washing machine, some more in the tumble dryer, and hung some more up around the house – and tried to wake her up again. Then a coffee, and another attempt to wake her up.

It's now 9am. She appeared at my side a few moments ago, squinted out at the rain falling outside while rubbing sleep from her eyes.

'Do you want to go to London or not? If you do, you need to have a shower right now – you have half an hour before we would need to leave for the train'

She shook her head slowly.

I don't really mind either way, and I'm kind of glad I got up when I did, because I hate wasting the weekend. I just wish she would keep to her word a little more often. I was kind of looking forward to spending the day with her. It IS raining outside though, and its forecast to get worse throughout the day. Maybe a quite day spent at home with a succession of cups of tea, and a good book or two might be just the thing we really needed.

And yes, I know the title is almost the same as the Simon and Garfunkel song. I've been humming the song while writing this post.

I have re-installed both my old desktop computer and laptop with 'Elementary OS'. It's a flavour of Linux that has been growing in pupularity over the last few years – I tried it when it first appeared, and have kept going back to it. It's simple, fast, and works well on old computers. I had been using Windows 10, but it just gets more and more bloated, slow, and clunky.

Not having Windows on the computer means no more Scrivener (a word processor designed for writing) – which is fine I suppose. In terms of writing blog posts, it was a bit like using an aircraft carrier to sail across a pond.

So how do my posts get from the keyboard, to the internet? I'm not sure if I've ever written about this in any detail before...

I tend to write in a simple text editor, and save the text files into a year and month folder structure. I guess the organised structure is a hangover from being a software developer – I have folders going all the way back to 2003, with the text file for each post named according to the date and the post title.

I'm not sure why I started writing in text editors, instead of the authoring interface at Wordpress, Tumblr, or wherever else. I guess I got my fingers burned by unstable internet connections, or browser crashes one too many times. I will say that writing outside of the browser does remove distractions – it's too easy for me to open another tab and lose half an hour watching YouTube videos, or playing chess.

The writing gets backed up to GitHub. I've tried Google Drive, OneDrive, and Dropbox – but just find it easier to save the text to Github. For one thing, you don't need to leave a program running in the background to sync your files – you just tell it to do it when you want.

Once happy with a post, I copy the body into Wordpress and Tumblr, and then choose a photo from one of the free stock photo websites to go with it. Sometimes I use my own photos, but it's rare. Once published, I invariably re-read, and spot all manner of spelling, punctuation, and grammar mistakes – I never have figured out how that works.

Anyway. Enough of this nonsense. There are chores to do. Bathrooms to clean. Bedrooms to set fire to. Washing up to put in the machine. Washing up to put in the dishwasher. It never ends.

Memory is a curious thing. While clearing the kitchen up last night I had a really good idea for a blog post. Unfortunately all I can now remember is that I had a really good idea – I have no recollection of what the idea was.

Oh well.

Today is Friday. I'm sitting at my desk on the top floor of the building, listening to Avril Lavigne as part of a 'Throwback' playlist on Apple Music. I'm supposed to be working on some programming for a client project, but lunchtime is fast approaching – it can wait. I'm not really hungry either – all my own fault – one of my co-workers brought cookies in to celebrate his birthday. I've made two rounds of coffee so far, and eaten two cookies.

The cycle in to work this morning was brutal. The weather has suddenly turned this week – after a wonderful summer, heavy clouds are rolling overhead, the temperature has dropped, and I'm suddenly wearing huge, baggy hoodies. Being away or travelling with work for the better part of a month has lost quite a bit of power from my legs – turning the pedals over the last few mornings has seemed more difficult than usual.

What else has been going on?

It looks like Miss 18 is dropping out of college. Actually – not so much 'looks like' – more 'has'. At first I was horrified, angry, and frustrated – but after a few hours to absorb it all, I began wondering if some people are just not academic – and that having a year away from it all might do her some good. As soon as all this happened, a job offer essentially fell in her lap. It's only part time, but it will be something. If you see me walking strangely, it's because I'm keeping my fingers and toes crossed.

Miss 14 officially left Girl Guides this week – being awarded the 'Baden Powell Challenge' award to cap off a record going all the way back through Rainbows, Brownies, and Guides. She also picked up badges to mark more than 25 nights spent under canvas to sew to her camp blanket.

Miss 13 has been away all week on a school residential trip. It's been strange without her bouncing around the house. I have been looking after her hamster in her absence – feeding it each night, and coralling it while it runs around her bed. It's a golden hamster with red eyes called 'Holly'. I always think of her as 'Holly Golightly', and imagine her having Audrey Hepburn's voice.

Anyway. Lunchtime is coming to an end. Just enough time left to make a coffee – fuel to better survive the afternoon. Not that I'm watching the clock, honest.

I'm returning to Frankfurt again – during the second week of October. I still need to book a taxi transfer to the airport, but everything else is now in place – the flights, and the hotel. Another week of evenings wandering the streets of a foreign city, and sitting alone in restaurants.

I suppose on the plus side the blog gets filled with somewhat interesting posts when I travel. Posts about the people and places I happen upon from day to day. While at home my life becomes routine – predictable – and I can't imagine anybody really want's to read about that.

I have half an hour of my lunchtime left. Half an hour to catch up on the blogs I follow, to say hello to a few distant friends, and to procrastinate famously. Maybe a cup of coffee first though. Coffee always helps the day along, don't you find ?

At dinner last night I gently reminded our daughter about the reality of the situation she would face this morning. Yes, she can now buy alcohol, watch adult movies, buy top shelf magazines, and all the other things – but none of those things are really that important.

She is now an adult. And being an adult really comes down to one thing – whatever she does from this point forward is her fault. And that is important.

Until today, if she screwed up, it would have been our door that got knocked on – our phone that rang. Now that all changes. That's what being an adult is really about – knowing that the buck stops with you – if you do something stupid, it's on you.

Of course we will still be here for her – put a roof over her head, clothes on her back, feed her, care for her, buy her chocolate when she's had a crap day, and share wine with her at dinner. I will still tell her rubbish jokes, complain about the state of her bedroom, and not go away even though she tells me to when life seems too difficult and stressful to deal with.

But now she's a grown up. And it feels strange.

While fast asleep last night the sweep of time passed through our house, and we said goodbye to the little girl that looked over the top of her reading glasses at us, and said hello this morning to young woman with the world at her feet, and a hopefully wonderful future stretched out in front of her.

Yes, she's unsure at times, and yes, she struggles to deal with so many things that others take for granted, but she's made it this far, and it's going to be wonderful to share in at least a little of what she does next.

I feel like I'm in-between everything at the moment, and I don't know how to explain it. Not just in-between doing things more like I have fallen into some kind of gap in the world while the rest of the world carries on with their day, I have stumbled into a hole that nobody else can see they see me of course, but not the hole.

I'm probably making no sense at all.

It feels like being disconnected from everybody and everything. Its a strange feeling. Rather than watch TV, read books, play video games, or do anything else, I go from one distraction to the next, until I notice the clock has betrayed me, and somehow wound itself forward to the early hours of the morning.

I'm sure the world will right itself eventually that I will escape the in-between. No doubt my escape will be accompanied by a slew of people-watching posts, observations of life happening around me, or other such idiocy. Until then, lets just pretend I'm on some kind of hiatus or something.

While browsing YouTube videos late one evening a few months ago, I happened upon a presentation about the Google Alpha Zero project. If you've not heard of it, its a Google artificial intelligence project investigating machine learning techniques, and used chess as an example. Cutting a long story short, the system learned to play chess from scratch in four hours to a standard higher than any computer chess program in existence. Various grandmasters analysing its games were kind of terrified by what they saw it appeared to understand positional ideas that took us decades to discover, and essentially played like a human.

Anyway.

I got sucked into watching a series of chess videos over the coming days and weeks, and ended up tripping over a quite wonderful website called lichess allowing people to play each other on the internet for free, with no advertising. Its years since I last played chess properly, so I started out hilariously badly and I also recognised that I only typically get the chance to play late at night when I'm tired, and making mistakes.

Here's the thing though I've kept at it, and have discovered that I really don't mind losing at all its become more about playing the game. When I was younger I hated losing at games but now I appear to just enjoy playing win or lose. Maybe this is a change children have brought about in me I'm not really sure.

I suppose the reassuring thing about playing real people is that they make mistakes when you play a computer you can of course lower its playing strength, but typically that resorts in entirely fabricated mistakes, which aren't quite the same as a human either blundering, or just getting into a complete and utter mess.

Ill have you know I'm rather good at getting into complete and utter messes. I'm less good at getting back out of them.