Branding

I've often been perplexed by some of the advertising and branding that gets thrown at me as a consumer. I like to pat myself on the back for my objectivity in the face of the bombardment my subconscious is being subjected to, before taking another swig of Pepsi, which I have preferred to Coca-Cola since the Corrs promoted it back in 1998.

The thing is though when you actually stop and think about it some of the messages behind branding is just a little bit weird. For example, I saw this in Sainsbury's today:


When you think about it, who would actually take a pilgrim's advice when choosing which particular cheddar to buy? Whilst I'm sure that pilgrims can offer good consumer advice on such things as footwear, maps, spiritual literature, etc, I'm not sure why their expertise should necessarily extend to dairy produce. Moreover, I'm not sure why advertisers would think that the the public at large would think this is the case. Did a survey of the British population find that 4 out of 5 individuals would defer to religious fundamentalists when choosing a cheese?

Answers on a postcard please.

Whilst I'm on the subject of bizarre quirks of retail, yes Mr John Sainsbury do I accept that my bags must be verified. I can see that we wouldn't want me trying to carry my shopping in, I dunno, a brick or something by accident. Summon an attendant forthwith!

Inspiration strikes

I find that inspiration is a lot like lightning. It will strike at an unexpected moment in an unexpected place and you can guarantee that in the instant there will be too much of it to deal with. Fortunately the analogy ends before the point where it leaves me blackened with my hair stood on end and steam coming off me.

Anyway, in my waking moments this morning I had a dream; it was one of those dreams that is close enough to the edge of reality to warrant trying to hold onto and recount. The experience gave me several ideas for a short story, which I am going to call Joy. I'm pleased to say I will be writing it and will post here when I'm done.

Shoe Rack

For a while the acquisition of furnishings for my flat has become a prime concern. For example, in a civilised dwelling there is not a big pile o' shoes™ in the hallway. Footwear is installed in a dedicated piece of footwear storage furniture.

Enter the offer of this article from a friend of my Mum's.


Now, to start with I wasn't so keen on it so I turned the kind offer down, it was after all too large. However, after a trip around IKEA drew a blank for suitable shoe racks I re-considered my decision, remembering that I am, after all, an engineer extraordinaire. By that point it had been thrown on a firewood pile and was covered in mud and bird poo, so needed rescuing.

This is where we cue the A-team music. Stand back everybody, that's right, I'm gonna modify the the shoe rack!


Now it's more than just a shoe rack, it's a shoe rack with a story behind it.

Is it a Sofa? Is it a Bed?

Today heralded the arrival of my newest and definitely my favourite piece of furniture. Yes, that's right, my flat is now graced by the presence of a new sofa... or is it a bed? In either relaxational configuration it is limb-meltingly comfortable. How comfortable? Well, today I took the day off in order to be in when it was delivered. When it arrived just before mid-day I sat on it for a bit... then tried lying down on it... and fell asleep for 3 hours.

Gooood sofa.

Now in Magnolia

‎"This new flat means more to me than just home ownership" he said.
"What's that?" she asked.
"Freedom from landlords, my own space, a new start..."
"No no," she interjected, "what's that?" she pointed.
"Oh," he paused, "yeah that's a bit disgusting... I'll have to paint over that."

Yes I've spent the last week beginning the process of turning my empty flat into my home. I'm very much indebted to my parents for their help with all the painting and cleaning and helping me get established with a washing machine and fridge.

Everything's been moved out of the old place now, and the keys handed back. I am truly living in my own flat now!

‎"Get a plumber, get the water connected, hire a cleaner, maybe a cook - live like real middle class people."
"Get the water connected?"
"Yeah."
"So, not connected now?"
"Not so much."

Portmoak '11

I find it crazy that having just bought a flat and whilst still paying rent on a house I have spent the last week living in neither.

That said it's been a fun week away in Scotland. In terms of flying I've had better weeks up there, as we only got one day and an evening of ridgable flying weather, but it was still a fun holiday. Highlights were an hour in the club Discus, T19, on the Bishop and a bit of mutual flying with Michelle in a K-21.


Cludeo playing skills were also practiced, though not needed where damage to the Acro's trailer was concerned; it was the Reverend Bromley in the coach park with the Fox One trailer.

Completion!

Today I passed an important milestone; I have just completed on the purchase of my very own flat.

It's all happened very suddenly. Yes I kicked off the process months ago with a conversation with an independent financial advisor, really got things moving when I put in an offer for the flat I wanted, but until now it all seemed like stuff that would happen at some indeterminate time in the future.

That was until I picked the keys up this lunch time.


I will confess that I felt quite emotional when I found myself stood in my own home for the first time. That's what it's all about though; my home. For the last five years and especially for the last six months I have felt as though I haven't really had a home, just somewhere I have lived. I can stand in my bedroom, my office, my living room and feel the anticipation for all of the future scenes from my life that will unfold in this space.

Most of all I want to give my thanks to my grandparents without whose boundless generosity none of this would have been possible.

There's no plug for the bath, the paint on the walls has a nice singed effect going on above the storage heater and the previous occupant somehow managed to melt the handle for the grill in the oven. Bliss...