Daylight Sandings

Tonight Vanessa and I took what was probably our last barefoot, work-night sunset stroll at the beach this side of the Spring Equinox. Daylight Savings ends this weekend. The coast will cool. The rain will come. Dinners will soon be eaten in the dark under blankets.

image 1872 from bradism.com

When we got back I cleaned the sand off my feet with the brush head of our vacuum cleaner.

image 1873 from bradism.com

It worked pretty well. And it's cordless, you could bring it to the beach!


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If you met yourself from the future, what would you ask your future self?
What if they wont tell you anything?


Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

It was haircut-expert Tim who taught me this year that you should time your haircuts two weeks before major life events. My haircuts last me about seven weeks each, and I've found myself now measuring 2019 in haircuts, despite not having many major events to coordinate with.
I visited my barber this week, which means it's only one more haircut between now and my holiday. How exciting!

Yeah, I do worry that I'm now dividing my life up into non-standard intervals such as haircuts and Olympics, like some amiable Tudor. I do avoid using the same hairdresser more than three times in one life. It takes me like a year to get through a single bottle of shampoo. I put my rubbish and recycling in a dumbwaiter. But according to my shampoo I'm still

image 1874 from bradism.com

Super Super Sets

I'm not sure what possessed me to do a Sudoku today. I haven't trained my brain with those little number-boxes on my phone for many years, yet somehow I found myself in the middle of one and delaying my gym schedule. So I paused it, drove to the gym, and finished it off between sets. I trained my brain at the gym.

Tonight I changed the bradism.com colours to orange for Autumn.


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Slow Down

Sunday evening. Another week has raced by. Ten curries are stacked in the refrigerator. The kitchen window is open to let this unseasonable Autumn warmth in. And with it, cutting the tranquility, is the sound of a roaring engine as the local hoons roll by. And I instinctively wish they'd just slow down.

image 1875 from bradism.com

It doesn't feel like that long ago I was cruising up a familiar hill in my slate-grey VK Commodore, not exceeding the speed limit, but going faster than I needed to. An old man at a crossing gave me the evil eye, and within our brief intersection he gestured graphically with his hands, just slow down.

I laughed at him, in the moment, nearly two decades ago. And now the world has turned and turned. Today I am the irate senior, and I think - if he has not yet died of old age - we'd agree, it'd be nice if time could just slow down.

A Good Friday

It was wonderful observing Adelaide today and the way people would live if none of us had jobs.

We got in 17,700 steps this morning, before I spend the rest of the weekend eating.

image 1876 from bradism.com

I respect the traditions and ceremonies of all faiths and religions.
If there's a dessert involved, even better.

image 1877 from bradism.com

The Ten Day Long Weekend

Since joining the white-collared workforce 13 years ago I've dreamed of having a beard. And now, at 34, I've finally grown something I can wear with confidence down the corridors between cubicles. Who would have thought that, after trying year after year, it wasn't a fuller beard that I grew so thick, but society's standards for fashionable dishevelment that would fall so far.

The Dog

It's true, golden retriever hair is not actually attached to their bodies. It teleports from a parallel dimension and sits on the dog in a weave (loosely).

image 1878 from bradism.com

A Freight of Nothing

image 1880 from bradism.com

I was already running late on my drive through the hills when the boom gate lights began to flash and I was forced to pull up to my front row seat for the freight train that was lumbering through. Exasperation was so tempting, the urge to feel frustrated, hard done by. But a part of me overcame the negative feelings. I breathed, and reasoned that it had been years since the last time I'd idled at a level crossing. Maybe this was a chance to meditate; a silver lining. Perhaps, even, an opportunity! Could there be something to a freight train's long stream of carriages that I might learn from? Some message from the universe concealed in the dieselly-smelling procession of steel and goods. A hidden lesson to be learnt in a moment of reflection?

The answer was, no, there is nothing good about five minutes of watching a train go by. I share these findings so you don't need to learn it too.