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The Jetsons

Spring arrived with an unannounced suddenness today which caught me by surprise. In the morning a thin layer of ice on the car told me that winter was firmly in control and yet by later afternoon, it was warm and the birds were celebrating quite noisily in the bushes behind the runway at Maypole.

I had been flying most of the day, sitting in the right-hand seat as a kind of unofficial mentor come instructor for a friend. The bright sunshine on the ground concealed a thick haze at two thousand feet, an opaque layer between Manston and Rochester, where we went to grab some lunch and shoot some practise circuits.

I’m hoping the weather will hold for another twenty-four hours as I’m planning to fly rather than drive to see a client near Hatfield. One way takes forty-five minutes and the other, maybe three hours by car. Lord help us if the flying car ever becomes a reality, translating the everyday grid-lock found on the M25 to something just as bad above it. Mind you, we have it already when you consider the congestion on Europe’s principal air routes.

Back in the real world, I was voted-in as vice chairman of 'The Conservative Technology Forum' at a meeting in Westminster last night, which is nice. I now have to help the develop arguments and strategies which will define how the technology of the Internet might one day be applied by a Conservative government to shape the economic future of this country. Any help and ideas would be appreciated


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It’s pitch blackness in places along the sea wall this evening and I'm momentarily startled by a small dog with orange flashing yuletide antlers along the way. I’m the only person crazy enough to be running and I know the route well enough to negotiate it in the dark, part of my Christmas exercise regime and a good way of relieving stress.

Why stress you might ask. After all, it is Christmas Day.

True but I’ve just spent over two hours assembling the giant Playmobil ‘Pony Farm’ set when most other fathers should be asleep in front of the television.

I was warned that the Playmobil ‘Pirate Ship’ had driven some fathers to drink or suicide and now I understand why. If your eyesight isn’t perfect or if you’ve had a few drinks with your Christmas lunch then it’s a challenge best left until Boxing day but not an option if you happen to have a nine year old daughter who wants it ready to take horses by tea time.

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