Month: December 2022

So another year has come and very nearly gone.

It’s been a year of change and of more the same.

My day job in IT has changed this year. From being a senior engineer, looking after my own area its evolved. COVID-19 had me leave the office and work from home full time. This is now permanent. I still head into a few clients data centres occasionally to under some task but this is generally only for projects implementing new hardware. The head of the infrastructure team has now left to go onto new things, so my roll now has additional duties. I now head up the infrastructure since April last year. Its challenging but I have some good engineers I can rely on and has certainly improved my people skills, having to deal more with the customer and not just the technical side of things.

My part time photography has also done well. Last year I pushed hard and this year I continued this, ensuring each month I did a good piece of work. On the equipment front, I have built out my grip and flash accessories, plus I am really enjoying the Nikon Z7 I treated myself last Christmas.

With being at home over the last few years I have developed a few bad habits, too little exercise, certainly not journaling enough and letting house work slip. Its odd that coming home from work at the office you then got on with other tasks, now being at home so much you leave your desk and do not want to do anything else at work. This has to stop.

Lastly I want to read more and practice my music more. The last few months I have been quite good at keeping up with the piano practice but I really must read more.

I have posted this before but as it is Christmas Eve I thought I was worth posting again.

On the Biking Blog “Ride it like you stole it!” which is sadly no more by Dave Dragon, there was a poem “The Biker’s Night Before Christmas”.

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the pad,

There was nada happenin’, now that’s pretty bad.

The woodstove was hung up in that stocking routine,

In hopes that the Fat Boy would soon make the scene.

With our stomachs packed with tacos and beer,

My girl and I crashed on the couch for some cheer.

When out in the yard there arose such a racket,

I ran for the door and pulled on my jacket.

I saw a large bro’ on a ’56 Pan

Wearin’ black leathers, a cap, and boots (cool biker, man).

He hauled up the bars on that bikeful of sacks,

And that Pan hit the roof like it was running on tracks.

I couldn’t help gawking, the old guy had class.

But I had to go in — I was freezing my ass.

Down through the stovepipe he fell with a crash,

And out of the stove he came dragging his stash.

With a smile and some glee he passed out the loot,

A new jacket for her and some parts for my scoot.

He patted her fanny and shook my right hand,

Spun on his heel and up the stovepipe he ran.

From up on the roof came a great deal of thunder,

As that massive V-twin ripped the silence asunder.

With beard in the wind, he roared off in the night,

Shouting, “Have a cool Yule, and to all a good ride!”