Technology. Like the old days, but easier?
...I have a rose in my garden. I got it for my 30th birthday, a high quality present.
As an aside, I'm not a gardener. I like gardens, I support gardens, I think they are a Good Thing, I like to sit in them, but in general - that plant you like? That you grew from a seedling? Don't let it anywhere near me. I'd not let me breath on it personally.
But the rose was a chance for a fresh start. Plus it was in the garden, so not in the house, so The Doctor's department. After a shaky start, with many suggestions of neglect, and a lingering fear that the RHS would come round and take it into care, my mother came round and took strong action, re potted it, provided some low level therapeutic support and rather less than optimistically suggested it wouldn't last the year.
Clearly clocking onto my 32 year urge to prove my mother wrong, I repositioned it in sight of the kitchen and powered up the TLC. Voila, flowers. Me - smug dance of smug joy.
(You like me a little bit less now, don't you?)
So, as our camera has performance anxiety I asked my father in law to take pictures of the rose. Digitally. My mother in law asked if I wanted the photos sent to my mum by them, or forwarded to me. 'Forwarded to me!' I said breezily. I imagined my mothers face when she saw her email in box with the beautiful pictures of my lovely rose.
Three days later, there is a thump on the door mat. Photos. Prints. Forwarded.
Me - gaaah - I didn't mean them to go to so much trouble?
Him - You didn't think they knew how to forward by email did you?
I should have seen that one coming really. Its only two years ago that I took over a project from my manager and asked her to forward all the email relating to the project. Cue 24 hours later in comes administrator bowed down by the weight of folder.
Containing email correspondence, carefully printed out.
As an aside, I'm not a gardener. I like gardens, I support gardens, I think they are a Good Thing, I like to sit in them, but in general - that plant you like? That you grew from a seedling? Don't let it anywhere near me. I'd not let me breath on it personally.
But the rose was a chance for a fresh start. Plus it was in the garden, so not in the house, so The Doctor's department. After a shaky start, with many suggestions of neglect, and a lingering fear that the RHS would come round and take it into care, my mother came round and took strong action, re potted it, provided some low level therapeutic support and rather less than optimistically suggested it wouldn't last the year.
Clearly clocking onto my 32 year urge to prove my mother wrong, I repositioned it in sight of the kitchen and powered up the TLC. Voila, flowers. Me - smug dance of smug joy.
(You like me a little bit less now, don't you?)
So, as our camera has performance anxiety I asked my father in law to take pictures of the rose. Digitally. My mother in law asked if I wanted the photos sent to my mum by them, or forwarded to me. 'Forwarded to me!' I said breezily. I imagined my mothers face when she saw her email in box with the beautiful pictures of my lovely rose.
Three days later, there is a thump on the door mat. Photos. Prints. Forwarded.
Me - gaaah - I didn't mean them to go to so much trouble?
Him - You didn't think they knew how to forward by email did you?
I should have seen that one coming really. Its only two years ago that I took over a project from my manager and asked her to forward all the email relating to the project. Cue 24 hours later in comes administrator bowed down by the weight of folder.
Containing email correspondence, carefully printed out.
<< Home