We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.
The paperwork mountain has been reduced to a clear desk top and there is only one outstanding task pricking my conscience. I’m unsure whether to do it this afternoon or keep it as a reminder that life consists of light and shade.
Maybe I will ignore it and just blame someone else if anyone asks about it..
The IT man failed to show up this morning (excuse is that he didn’t check his emails), we have a someone coming in to talk about working in the cafe this afternoon and a photographer from the local paper coming to take photos for the Men in Shed project.
There’s a link to our radio interview about Men in Sheds here –
BBC Radio Nottingham – its 2 hours 10 minutes in.
I don’t have audio on the computer so I’m not even sure if my inglorious minute was cut or not, so I’m just trusting to the editorial standards of Radio Nottingham to do me proud. Listen for the interviewee called Simon who sounds like a top-class practitioner of buffoonery. That’s me. Apart from my face, I have no natural radio attributes.
I also have no attributes of a natural man in a shed. However, I’m prepared to compromise and be jolly for a day because the inaugural meeting, on Friday, has a free lunch of sausage and mash.
I’m not gregarious, I’m not skilled, but I am always hungry, so for just one day I’ll pretend I’m old (you have to be over 55 to join our club!)
There’s been some talk about which is the better picture of me – the one above or the one at @QuercusCommy, though due to an unplanned wardrobe choice I don’t have to worry which is the better shirt. It’s feeling like time for a haircut so if you have any views on the matter feel free to let me know.