STARS AND PIXELS

I left the house under the stars this morning. Orion blinked at me, cold and bright above the street lamps and rooftops.

I love that the stars are the furthest thing you can see. A quick glimpse before running for the bus, but in that microsecond, photons that had begun their unimpeded journey millions of years ago collided with my eyes, and told me something about my place in the universe. It is amazing that we’re here, however you look at it.

The bus was packed with people on their phones. Much shorter distance for light to travel from screen to eye. We rumbled on in the artificial blue glow, every passenger in their own digital world of stars and pixels.

I’ve been thinking about social media again. Here’s my question: is it appropriate that everyone has an equally weighted voice in every debate?

I think social media did that to us. It balanced the scales, it equalised the volume, it gave us all a printing press. And while it seems fair, I’m not convinced it’s helpful.

WhatsApp pinged at me as the sky turned pink at the horizon.

There’s another equalisation: the equalisation of expectation. But of course, I’m in many WhatsApp groups now that each require a different set of rules. They look the same, they use the same font, the same emojis, the same style. And yet, instinctively there are rules governing all of them differently.

It must be a nightmare for the neurodivergent - no-one spells out what’s appropriate and what’s not. You are you, you have a sense of humour, compassion, kindness in all of these groups, why wouldn’t it be okay to say that in one, but not the other? And yet, so much happens there.

It’s possible that my two points are at odds with each other. One, equal platform is not equal authority, even though it seems like it. Two, equal groups have unequal etiquettes. But they are saying the same thing. It strikes me that the safest thing is to be as quiet as possible, closely followed by the old-fashioned thing we used to do when we all actually talked to each other.

I like the stars. They’re permanent reminders of something intangible, ethereal, solid, in a spinning world. No wonder sailors used them to navigate. We all need some fixed points to steer our ships by.

CHRISTMAS NUTS

It’s been really nice out there today. There was some rain first thing, so that’s added to the freshness. Then the sun came out and brought a crisp blue sky with it. It was all gold and green for a while. I love this time of year.

One of my colleagues was exasperated today that Morrisons are currently selling Christmas nuts.

I must admit the supermarkets do seem to have gone early, but honestly? I don’t mind it so much. I don’t know how long nuts last but I imagine they’ll take you into December. Mince pies with a use by date of November 15th I don’t understand quite so much, but if you’re planning your budget against your pay check, then sure, why not stock up now, on your non-perishable items?

“It’s not like it used to be, eh Matt?” he said. The same man asked me if I remembered Hawaii Five-O yesterday. I told him I was too young (which is true) and it upset him a little bit. I’m not quite sure why; he brought it up! 

Today then he was onto commercial Christmas in mid-October. Someone else then said it should begin on the 23rd of December. Hmm. Oh and how Santa’s going to be at their local garden centre from next week onwards. I’d have thought he’d have better things to do, to be honest. I imagined how funny it would be to dress up as Father Christmas and just go shopping, full-beard, completely in perfect character, never referencing it. I don’t know why that’s funny. Maybe it’s the thought of Santa pushing a trolley round Sainsbury’s and arguing with the self-checkout machine.

One thing I will say about Christmas threatening to consume the rest of Autumn - it doesn’t seem very fair on Autumn. This a great time of year, with its own festivities. We should make the most of it.

Well anyway. Today was nice. Proper Autumn. I really wanted to get my scarf out, wrap up in a long coat, and kick leaves in the park. I settled for a brisk walk, taking in the colours, the low bright sun, and the scent of earth and leaves. Beautiful.

HEATING

At 9:30am, Sammy connected her finger with the ‘boost’ button on the thermostat. She pushed. Electrical circuits fired into motion as a tiny pulse ignited in the wires.

Within a fraction of a second, the pulse zipped through the system, telling relays to fire, signalling valves to open and the boiler to wake up. An LED light flicked on, just next to her finger. It lit up the grey morning, a small square of bright luminescent orange.

Almost immediately, the boiler began to click. Somewhere a blue pilot light woofed into life as the tank remembered its strength. We heard it - the sound of old winter, the roar of cosy nights and chilly mornings.

Sammy looked at the display, glowing next to the LED. ‘Heating’ - so long reduced to ‘OFF’ while we boiled through the summer, now read ‘ON’. And the system was whirring and clicking to prove it.