Lindisfarne

We don't often have it, but when something called 'spare time' comes along then one of the things that often emerges is an old photograph, maybe discovered in an album previously hidden beneath a pile of papers or perhaps slipped between the pages of a long forgotten book. This is because 'spare time' is often used to move our 'stuff' about, to shift it from one place to another within the house. We might call this 'tidying up'. It achieves two things; firstly it can dramatically change the appearance of one corner of the house by moving the 'things' somewhere else (or better still out of sight into a cupboard) and secondly it makes those 'things' impossible to find should you later want them. Which is what happened once before to that old photograph.

But all that was before photos changed from ink on paper to bytes, a name for a system of electronic codes first coined in 1956 to describe an ordered collection of bits, which were the smallest amounts of data that a computer could process. I am guessing that we are unusual amongst our generation for storing all our old family pictures as electronic codes, inaccessible without artificial intelligence in the form of a computer, but this is in fact what we do. And there are many advantages flowing from doing so. For example it requires far less 'spare time' to find them, they can no longer be moved into cupboards and they can't be folded up or spoilt with tea stains. It is even possible to reverse the process that got them into this form originally, to change them back to paper and ink. It's called printing. But why on earth would you want to do this!

All this brings us to a picture of our son Ben taken over 30 years ago, one which has lost none of its charm since. We were visiting Lindisfarne at the time, an island off the north east coast of England often referred to as Holy Island due to the priory which existed there thousands of years ago and was an attractive target for invading Vikings. Our memories of why we were visiting this place or even how we got there on that particular occasion are lost to us but the image of our young, red-haired son is not, thanks to this photograph.

Just recently an opportunity came to meet with Ben in Berwick, a town not far from Lindisfarne, this being a place to which we could all travel without too much inconvenience or long distance motoring. Being less enthusiastic drivers we stopped overnight en route, parked up beside Traprain Law, the remains of a long extinct volcano which we then had to climb to the top of... because it's there, then booked into a proper campsite in Berwick for day two. Ben being tired from his own long drive we fed and watered him first before waving the photo about and telling him of our plan. Could we somehow create an equally charming adult version of this photo?

The first things to be considered are the props, which in this case consist of a big lolly (preferably one with 'Holy Island' written on it) and a van, for the background, both of which must be red. Then of course we had to be on the island itself, a place that is accessible via a causeway which is only revealed at certain states of the tide. But a quick check of the tide tables revealed a low tide, an opportunity, the following afternoon. So it was mission on.

As luck would have it the scorching hot weather tempted us to the Berwick seafront in the morning and from there into the sea for a revitalising early morning swim. Then after sustaining ourselves with some exotic paninis we spotted a giant red lolly for sale, exactly what we needed. So the mission is underway and we head off to the island...but then we met the crowds. It is a fine day in summer and a convenient afternoon low tide encourages every man, plus his two dogs, to drive over the causeway to the island, park in the enormous allocated car parking space then walk the half mile or so to the castle, this being the most visible attraction for miles around. The place is absolutely heaving, dogs running everywhere, hot sweaty children who would rather be anywhere else, elderly grandparents who can barely walk the short distance through the village having reluctantly agreed to go but who are now regretting every step, they are all here. This is not ideal when you need a quiet place to try to try to recreate one very specific set of criteria. It is nigh on impossible.

Then, as we briefly escape the crowds into the maze of back streets which house the guardians of the castle, we spot it - a small red car. It is not a perfect match but red is not a popular colour, it seems, amongst the inhabitants of Lindisfarne so we must grab the shot while we can. Ben takes a stance, we snap off a few trial shots... Yes, with a little editing this could be it.

So, did we nail it?

Over thirty years separates the two pictures.

Has he really changed?

Can this really be the same person?

Was it worth the effort? Most definitely yes. The modern day Ben may not remember his first visit but he will most certainly remember this one.

Another retirement

Both our lives are due to change this year. We are retiring!

But wait a second, didn't this happen once before, somewhere around the time this blog started, a good few years ago? Ah yes, but back then we retired from paid work. This time we are retiring from unpaid work, volunteers as it were, fulfilling roles in running our local community through a sense of commitment and having responsibilities without expecting or receiving reward. But make no mistake this is still work. It has many of the features of work that tend to make it so unpopular - the way it takes over your life if you let it, the pressure to get things done on time, the boss...well no, perhaps not this one. Kate and I have both been linchpins in different community organisations for a good few years, longer than most others would wish, and we have gradually become aware of the impact this has had on our lives. The many hours we spend emailing, telephoning, organising, these are hours that are no longer ours to do with as we want.

This is not to say we regret having taken on these jobs - there are rewards to playing an active role in a small local community, a feeling of satisfaction that such involvement inevitably brings - but we both feel that it is time for us to step aside and for others to step up and fill our shoes. This is not a sudden decision and we know we may experience a certain emptiness once we have taken this step but this will be as nothing, we hope, to the pleasure we shall feel from regaining control of lives.

It is, however, easier said than done, to resign from an organisation when so much of the working knowledge of that organisation is stashed away inside your head. Things you have done at certain times, procedures you have followed as a matter of course without thinking, little bits of knowledge that reside in your head without you realising, this must now be documented so others know what needs to be done and when. For example my position as treasurer of the local community trust has put me in possession of a plethora of passwords which I use to access a range of different online services. Many of these are hidden away, saved by my computer, but I must now remember them all so I can pass them on. And what of all those emails now stored on a server somewhere, addressed not to me but to the organisation I have been representing. Will they ever be read again? Does this matter?

Then there is the physical stuff, papers going back years. Should stuff like this be stored away for future reference? If so, where? Or is this a good moment for a big bonfire? All in all the handing over process seems like it is going to need more thought and consideration than the actual job.

Meanwhile...

A quick march around Carradale bay is always a good boost for the brain cells. So when coming across the only mermaid on the beach we are naturally inclined to stay a while and admire her many attributes. She's a stunner!