Categories
Life

A Chromebook by Any Other Name

Late last night I discovered a company called “Neverware” created the software to install on a USB stick that allows a computer to boot from the stick and turns it into a Chromebook. The software is called “CloudReady”, and the home edition is free. What’s more, if you like what it does, with a single click you can wipe the computer and install the Chrome operating system onto it’s internal storage – turning it completely into a Chromebook. Neverware did their job so well, Google acquired them.

I almost did a happy dance.

Needless to day, I now have a recycled Chromebook of sorts – built from an old laptop that has been sitting in the bottom of a bag for months. Granted, it’s not quite as good as a shiny-new-chromebook (new Chromebooks can run Android apps), but it’s pretty close.

In other news, I went for a mental health walk at lunchtime with my eldest daughter – a promised wander to the park to get some fresh air. We fed the swans, avoided the legion of parents with small children that have never heard of social distancing, and found a park bench to sit at for a little while – watching the world go by. Afterwards we bought soup and nice bread for everybody (it’s half term), and carried it home.

I have no idea what I’m going to spend the rest of the day doing. A part of me says I should use today as a writing day (I have Mondays off work at the moment) – but another part says I should kick back and have fun. Hang on – shouldn’t writing be fun?

Perhaps I’ll put some music on. Where’s that Sara Bareilles playlist?

Categories
Life

A Mental Health Walk

I walked into town after lunch with two of my daughters – a “mental health walk” – an escape from the walls that have been our prisoner for several weeks. It was good to get out of the house, if only for an hour.

We walked to the big park in town – mostly curious to take a look at the river that burst it’s banks last week. It’s receding now, but that hasn’t stopped the ducks and swans from taking ownership of a huge swathe of the riverbank. I quietly walked up to some of the swans, who showed no fear at all – walking slowly towards me as I approached. My eldest daughter backed away, making worried noises – she had a run in with a swan a few years ago while trying to take a picture of it.

The park was mostly quiet – predictable, given that it was a weekday – but also because it was so cold. After leaving the house snow began falling, and got heavier during the time we were out – beginning to settle on the ground. By the time we got home my face had become numb.

It was good to get out though. The cold weather seemed to remove the idiots that think the Corona Virus doesn’t apply to them. It’s strange how some people are more fearful of the cold than a deadly pandemic.

I found myself in an online debate of sorts with a particular kind of idiot last night, and something occurred to me. The people that complain about political bias, unfair reporting, and support conspiracy theories tend to do so because they have actively chosen to narrow the opinions they take notice of to those they agree with. It’s helped along by the very same algorithmic timeline they also complain about – because they fear missing out on anything. Figure that out – they fear missing out on the very same stories they don’t want to see.

Anyway.

It’s getting late, and I have a meeting first thing tomorrow. I need to sleep.

Categories
Life

A Walk in the Park

We went for a walk this afternoon in Basildon Park – about an hour from home. Perhaps the highlight of the walk was a dragonfly deciding to land on my knee while sitting on a bench, waiting for the rest of the family to catch up.

Quite how my family manage to walk so slowly is a complete and utter mystery to me – I walked with our youngest daughter, and tried to stay at the back to avoid leaving everybody behind, but time and time again we found ourselves in front, with nobody in sight behind us. It became a running joke.

We filled our pockets with acorns along the way – with plans to plant them all over the garden. If there’s anybody here in perhaps two hundred years time, they might wonder where the hell all the oak trees came from.