Lordy, Lordy, Lordy - There Are Chickens!

I'm not sure what to write about. The long drive, while only a few minutes longer, is nearly all on Motorway and is getting to be a slog.

The fire alarm went off yesterday, and once I'd got over the realisation that it was a real one and that no one had actually told me where to go, it got a bit boring and wet standing round in the car park. I vaguely recognised a few of the people hanging around under the limited number of company umbrellas (never had to spell that word before - looks funny) and realised that some must be people who worked at the old place a few years ago and escaped up here. There is my colleague Martin of course who drops over for coffee and a colleague from further back who actually resigned from the old company to come and work here. To clarify the situation, I moved over as part of an outsourcing deal so I do the same job from a different site. Technically I can do what I do from home - all the development tools I use fit nicely on this laptop - but Number One Son's presence may make concentration difficult. With any luck I should get a permanent desk soon which will mean I can lug the giant monitor in.

Bit of real-time interaction here - Martin has just signed in and I'm sure will be over for coffee in a second. Isn't technology great?

We watched My Life As A Child yesterday, a new BBC series where children are given Video cameras just to capture family life. Excellent viewing! In my almost subconscious realisation that I sometimes still feel like a ten-year-old, it is nice to see that some ten-year-olds have deep and interesting minds and the eloquence to express them. So much of the news today wants to show kids as uncommunicative and surly, violent even. The three kids in yesterday's programme, despite being in second families, seemed balanced and loving and aware of having to do the right thing. As well, bearing in mind that they were responsible for all the filming and setting up of shots, they all seemed aware of story-telling. I suppose that should not be a surprise; my daughter can make up some rambling but fascinating stuff. To me, these nuggets of insight into her internal view of the world are spaced out at intervals but I get the feeling that this made-up place is with her all the time, tempered by the practicalities of real-life, of having to sit down to tea or to got to lessons at a particular time. What if we all had lives like the main character in About A Boy where your time was all your own? Obviously it would depend on character but I could see myself retreating into some strange world of imagination rather than the structured play in the book. No more Countdown though - well not in the same way.