A peaceful English countryside village nestled among rolling green hills and wildflowers
I don’t get sunburned anymore. Years back, my skin would have turned red and I would feel as if I had been chucked into a sack of stinging nettles. And just by sitting outside in the sun for a couple of hours. Then after a few days my skin will begin to itch and flake. Not anymore, I have adjusted to the UK’s sunnier climate. And I certainly don’t miss the freezing cold winters of yesteryear. And I can’t remember the last time I put on sun cream. How can it be good to smother ourselves in chemicals? But don’t get me wrong.
I am sensible in what I wear. So it is only my face and arms which are exposed. And I have also taken to wearing a baseball cap. Not a silly one. And I don’t pull it down over my nose like Donald Trump. Instead it is perched on the back of my head and maybe cocked slightly to an angle. How cool is that?
If I want a good night’s sleep, I will put a large fan at the end of my bed. Even the sound of it is relaxing. And it uses only a tenth of the energy of a portable air conditioning system. So I’m also saving the planet.
A rainwater collection barrel gathers water from the roof during rainfall
I also believe in self-sufficiency. Which is why I have installed a rainwater collection system. Not like the one in the picture. Mine is freestanding. Just a green plastic tank with a few holes punched in the top.I bought it a couple of months back and we still haven’t had a drop of rain.
The historic Merchant Taylors’ Hall building in London viewed from the street
Yesterday I had a lovely evening at a summer party at Merchant Taylors’ Hall courtesy of the barristers at Francis Taylor Building. The weather and the vibes couldn’t have been better.
I walked through the open doors the building, not knowing a soul. When I went to collect my name badge i asked if I could glance through the attendance list, all 10 pages of it, just to see if there were any names I recognized. I noticed some firms, including Avison Young, with whom we do business. But my aging eyesight meant that the name badges attendees wore on their lapels were of little use to me. At least not without invading their personal space. But having taken my drink, it only took me about 15 minutes to find somebody I did know. A barrister with whom I had worked many years ago on a couple of planning inquiries and whom I had met a few weeks earlier at another conference organised by the Ecclesiastical Law Society and who introduced me to a retired judge-turned-mediator – who in turn introduced me to other guests including a lady member of the City Corporation with whom we spoke about Smithfield Market. Later on someone shouted out my name, even though I couldn’t remember who they were. But it was someone I used to work with and we quickly got talking and he introduced me to other lawyer acquaintances. So what do I take from all this?
Never refuse an invitation because you are worried that you might not know anyone else who is attending. Because that is what networking is about. And as my late mother once said, “If you refuse an invitation, you might never be invited again”. So be gracious. Always accept courtesy when it is offered.
A very long time ago I attended a free networking course at the Law Society Legal Services Exhibition at Olympia. I went along with Allison, a former work colleague. The course was free because it was promotional. But that didn’t matter. Because I took away a lot. And I bought the book. Like me, the course promoter, was a big fan of the late Dale Carnegie and his book, “How to Win Friends and Influence People”. So what are my networking tips:
Get in the habit of accepting invitations when they are offered. If you are not there you can’t network.
Take a genuine interest in the people and the world around you so that you have something to talk about. That is always an issue for me because in our house, sport is always a ‘turn-off’.
If you don’t get to speak to anybody it doesn’t matter. Just enjoy the vibe. Say hello to the catering staff.
Remember that you’re not trying to sell anything. Only yourself.
Take the trouble to remember someone’s name. Just in case you meet them again.
Stick to the small talk. You’re not trying to make a point. And never criticize or complain.
Don’t hand out business cards unless somebody specifically asks for one.
Don’t try to work the room. Shaking hands with everyone is not going to get you anywhere.
Be sensitive to body language. All conversations have a natural end. You will know when it’s time to move on.
Like old soldiers, our ancient system of Imperial measurements has been fading away since the 1970s. But will they ever die? I’m not going to bet on it.
The mandating away of our 1000-year-old system of measurements has always been in fits and starts. It started with a push in the early ’70s before stalling in the ’80s and ’90s until it became illegal in the Millennium year to sell loose goods in pounds and ounces or equivalent linear measures. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t sell you a pound of apples, so long as I measure them out on metric scales and mark them as 454 grammes. There is also nothing to stop me buying a pound of jam (sorry 454 grammes) from my local supermarket, just so long as I don’t call it a pound of jam.
It’s also strange that whilst we cherish other parts of our ancient heritage, like sea shanties or steam engines, it’s somehow ‘uncool’ to talk about feet and inches or gallons. As if it’s something only old people do. And of course editorial policy now dictates that all UK news and weather has to be delivered in metric terms. So how long do you think that it’s going to be before imperial measurements fade out completely from our language? Here is some food for thought.
The rationale for metrification has always been that Britain carries out most of its trade with Europe and therefore has to provide manufactured goods to a metric specification. But isn’t that also true for America, the world’s largest economy, if it wants to trade with Europe? Yet Americans remain wedded to US Customary Units which, with some variations, follows British Imperial units. It’s why if I step out of Orlando Airport I can buy my quarter pound of fudge and eat it in 90° heat whilst stroking an alligator. It’s also why it will always take 9 million pounds of thrust to launch a NASA moon rocket, never 40 Mega Newtons. And here are a few more morsels for you to digest.
Every time you switch on your 56-in wide screen to watch an American movie or documentary you are immersed in another world of feet and inches, pounds and ounces and miles. Never kilometers.
Whilst American Tech dominates the world, US Customary Units will always remain supreme. Even the AI on your computer.
Have you noticed the way that Americanisms are creeping back into our language. Like corporate counsel instead of company solicitor? Many of these are Old English words like ‘attorney’ which traveled across the Atlantic two centuries ago but are now making a reappearance, including some UK firms now styling themselves ‘Attorneys at Law’. How cool is that?
And remember that it will only take one UK broadcaster to change its editorial policy.
Just one other thing. There is one part of our culture which has never been metricated. Look at any clock face and you will see an ancient system of measurement dating back to the Babylonians. Likewise the 360° in a circle.
We talk a lot about diversity. But when it comes to popular music, there seems to be none. This year’s Glastonbury Festival looks to me like too much of the same-old. When I switched on my television, the first act I saw was a slightly overweight young lady singing and dancing in a leotard. The audience loved it. So perhaps it was just me.
Don’t get me wrong. There were a couple of acts I did enjoy watching, like the two rap singers and Gracie Abrams, an interesting artist who I hadn’t seen before. Then it was back to the same old. Look! I want to be entertained. Not listen to someone giving me a message.
Then there are the headliners. Usually bands I’ve never heard of. That’s not to say that there are some artists whom I would gladly make time to watch. Like Dua Lipa, Blondie or Robbie Williams, who appeared a year or two back. This year I believe it’s Rod Stewart, whom I last saw live at the 1973 Weeley Pop Festival. So maybe I’ll spend an hour watching Rod
BRUCE AND HOLLY 